


This Is How We Win

by edenbound



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Crowley (Good Omens), Asexual Relationship, Asexuality, Epistolary, Footnotes, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 01:45:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19819984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edenbound/pseuds/edenbound
Summary: An archive of letters written between one Crowley and one Aziraphale, spanning a rather unlikely number of millennia.





	This Is How We Win

**Author's Note:**

> With apologies to Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone, because _This is How You Lose The Time War_ is the direct cause of this fic. The title is a quotation from the book.
> 
> With thanks to my wife, who helped with the research of things that I felt I couldn't fudge, and is generally a very good sounding board. Just be glad I didn't follow her suggestion of using the custom CSS to put Crowley's part in Comic Sans.
> 
> As far as the research goes, don't expect too much. I just needed to get this story _out of my brain_. I used [this timeline](https://screenrant.com/good-omens-timeline-explained-chronological-order/) to try and keep everything in order.

_The following is a sequence of letters pieced together from the archives of a Mr Fell and a Mr Crowley. The latter is probably the Crowley of the letters, which suggests an identification for Mr Fell as well._

_The current whereabouts of these two beings is unknown._

[Undated clay tablet. [1]]

Angel,

I know you're still officially toeing the party line, but I don't imagine you think a "rain bow" any more worth all those lives than I do. I have no doubt you're under constant observation, as well, so I don't blame you for hurrying away. Still, we are the only two agents on Earth right now, so I don't think it's a poor reflection on you that you would want to talk to me. Compare notes, as it were.

I'll find you again before long.

C

* * *

[Undated clay tablet.]

Really, the last one wasn't so well-hidden that you couldn't have found it, and I know you've had opportunities to leave a reply. It's only polite, angel.

C

* * *

[Undated clay tablet.[2]]

Alright, fine, have it your way.

C

* * *

[35 AD, before they met in Rome.]

Aziraphale Crowley salutem dicit. [3]

Si vales, bene est. [4] Well, it isn't necessarily, though I suppose I hope you're still around, or I wouldn't be writing to you.

You were right, back then: sometimes I do wonder if it's all worth it. To be quite frank with you, I think I've muffed it all up beyond repair. I haven't spoken to the Almighty since she asked me where I put the sword, so I suppose I did the wrong thing after all. I was rather worried about doing another wrong thing by replying to you, but it all seems rather pointless just now.

How do you do it? We weren't made to wander around the Earth's surface on our own, and the humans seem to be doing perfectly well at being evil or being good whether or not we intervene.

Did you see what happened after that plague recently? Ghastly behaviour, and not a single demon in sight. I'll confess, I looked for you. A familiar face would have helped. Oh, fine, and I did suspect you a little.

I do apologise for not replying sooner. It would have been the more polite thing to do.

* * *

[35 AD.]

Angel,

I was surprised to hear from you in this format after so long. I hadn’t heard about the plague – there are so many of them these days. It’s urban living that does it. And it does seem to make them lose their heads.

It’s not worth it at all, and you know it. I’ve been making the best of my time on Earth, though. I’m sure you’ve been avoiding it, so let me just give you the hint now: try eating something. An apple, perhaps. You’ll find the experience at least worth the effort of trying.

C

* * *

[50 AD.]

Crowley,

I suppose you’ve caught me out now, after I offered you oysters in Rome. I did follow up on your suggestion, though you’ll excuse me if I avoided the apple. It’s astonishing the number of things humans think up! I can never resist having a nibble.

Don’t think this means you can tempt me into other worldly pleasures, serpent.

Aziraphale

* * *

[50 AD.]

How about music? There’s a marvellous cithara-player at Lucius’ inn in five days’ time. Perhaps I’ll see you there.

C

* * *

[539 AD, a couple of years after they met in Wessex.[5]]

Crowley,

I’ve been giving more thought to what you said. Assuming your armour hasn’t rusted shut and left you stranded in place, let’s meet to discuss it. I really don’t think there’s any use me being a direct part of this anyway: one gets the sense this dream of Camelot is doomed to failure, no matter what we do. Mordred is something of a serpent in Eden – no offence intended. He isn’t one of your efforts, is he?

I do miss our “accidental” meetings in inns. You were right about music, as well. Do you have any other suggestions about Earthly things I should try?

Aziraphale

* * *

[540 AD, after a meeting in an inn.]

Crowley,

I hope you weren’t offended by my clumsy attempt to embrace you. You shook it off at the time, of course, but I can’t help but feel (now I’m not quite so drunk) that I was being deeply inappropriate. It just seemed that perhaps that was one more Earthly pleasure I could try – none of it has harmed me so far, after all.

Aziraphale

* * *

[540 AD.]

Angel,

I wasn’t offended. I’m just not used to it. As for Earthly pleasures, you’ve far surpassed me by now, I think. Most of the time it seems like too much effort for a lot of mess, though the results can be pleasant enough in the moment.

Somehow I don’t like to think of you indulging that particular pleasure with anyone else, though. Make of that what you will.

C

* * *

[541 AD.]

Angel,

I think I offended you in my turn. Rest assured, I don’t believe I have any claim on you. Sample your Earthly pleasures to your heart’s content – it doesn’t trouble me.

C

* * *

[543 AD.[6]]

Crowley,

Don’t imagine your opinion mattered to me for a single moment.

Aziraphale

* * *

[1601 AD, after the success of a play called _Hamlet_.[7]]

Dear Crowley,

When I asked you to take care of it for me, I didn’t expect you to do a miracle on such a scale! My dear, it’s simply marvellous to see the attendance at the Globe now. And it will make an excellent rendez-vous for us now, so you see, it was all to the good. I mean that in a self-interested sense, and not in the sense of it being Good.

Perhaps you’ll join me for the new play? I believe it’s called Twelfth Night, and promises to be more to your taste.

Yours,

Aziraphale

* * *

[1601 AD.]

Don’t say things you don’t mean.

C

* * *

[1601 AD.]

Dear Crowley,

I must confess to being puzzled. I meant my thanks and my invitation to you whole-heartedly. Things in Scotland went well, by the way.

Yours,

Aziraphale

* * *

[1601 AD.]

I am not dear to you, and you are not mine. Don’t say things you don’t mean.

C

* * *

[1793 AD, after Crowley’s assistance in France.[8]]

Crowley,

I should thank you again for your timely assistance. And for the company while I devoured those crepes.

Aziraphale

* * *

[1793 AD.[9]]

Angel,

I’m sorry about my last letter. It was too abrupt.

The fact is, I wish I was dear to you. I wish you were mine, and mine alone. I know we can’t breathe a word of this aloud, and we must keep a careful distance between us when we meet – who knows when we will be observed? But please don’t ignore me via this medium as well. I’m not going to write you the kind of words that burn the paper they’re written on[10] – I don’t have that in me, Aziraphale. But I think you know how I feel by now.

C

* * *

[1941 AD.]

Dearest Crowley,

You’ll see I began with that salutation again, and more, because it’s true. You are dear to me, though I can hardly understand why – and I didn’t want to admit it at all. I’m afraid I hardly understood before what you might feel for me. You’re a demon, after all.

I did not, in any case, intend to hurt you. Of course I understand that you don’t want anything in the nature of a physical relationship. Nonetheless, I think you must see by now, as I do, that no matter how we push one another away, we’ll always find one another again. Have faith in that, my dear.

Yours,

Aziraphale

* * *

[2010 AD, partway through their time at the Dowlings’.]

Why did the Almighty invent children?

C

* * *

[2010 AD.]

I haven’t the least idea. Don’t get careless in leaving these notes around, or they’ll think we’re having an affair! The Dowlings, I mean.

A

* * *

[2010 AD.]

Would that be so bad? It would give us more of an excuse to talk. I miss you, angel, even though you’re right there.

C

* * *

[One day before the end of the world.[11]]

Come away with me, angel. I love you. There, I wrote it! I’ll say it, if you come with me. Earth isn’t worth it, Aziraphale – the Great Plan isn’t worth it: it never was. If I could see any way left for us to stop it, I’d fight with you, shoulder to shoulder, against all comers, to the end of the world. But there’s nothing left for us to do but run.

Please don’t make me go on without you.

Yours,

Crowley

* * *

[Sunday, the day after the world didn’t end.]

Dearest Crowley,

In case our little scheme doesn’t work out, I thought I’d leave you one last note, just in case you can come back to find it. You’re always so clever, after all.

I haven’t always been worthy of the trust you’ve gifted me with, my dear. I held things back from you and distrusted you, when you never gave me cause. Sometimes I wonder if you weren’t the best of us, despite your questions.

I know that many Earthly pleasures don’t appeal, but it would have been my honour to introduce you to any that do, once we’re free. I hear holding hands is rather nice, and a kiss wouldn’t have to lead anywhere you don’t want.

Yours entirely,

Aziraphale

* * *

[Monday, the day after the day after the world didn’t end.]

Angel,

You forgot to take away your letter when everything worked out.

After all this time, I think you owe me that kiss you mentioned. I’ll be waiting at the bandstand at the usual time.

Yours,

Crowley

[1] The tablet has shapes on it signifying a very early form of writing in a language almost no one can speak or even read in modern times. Frankly, we're shocked we found anyone able to translate it in order to allow us to present you with this translation. It was a miracle.

[2] You may take it as read that the medium is usually appropriate to the period. Aziraphale did subsequently get excited and start using paper a little before it became widely available, though only for his correspondence with Crowley.

[3] A Latin salutation meaning, in essence, “Dear Crowley.” When in Rome, after all. Although Aziraphale was not yet in Rome, he was certainly within the borders of the Roman Empire.

[4] “If you are strong, it is well.” A traditional salutation. Aziraphale was merely being polite, since in his next sentence he immediately expresses doubt about whether Crowley being well is, in fact, a good thing.

[5] This archive does not include all the letters exchanged by Aziraphale and Crowley over the years. For one thing, that would be an extremely long document mostly composed of arrangements for assignations. For another, no one needs further evidence of years of pointless bickering. This document has been collected and edited into a somewhat coherent story in order to demonstrate the sweep of their relationship through time. Unless otherwise noted, you can assume that no messages of note passed between the two between each item of correspondence.

[6] The delayed reply was, as you can imagine, deliberate, and pointed. The archive contains other drafts of this note, including a scrawled: "Drat him, he can wait!"

[7] There were, it should be noted, no letters at all between Crowley’s last in 540 AD and this one.

[8] There were no letters in between 1601 and 1793, either.

[9] There are a number of unsent versions of this letter. The version included is the one eventually sent and (presumably) read by Aziraphale.

[10] The writer Dorothy L. Sayers put similar words in the mouth of her hero, Lord Peter Wimsey, but as far as we know this was entirely a coincidence. And besides, that letter was an entirely different sort of letter, except insofar as it was written to the object of the writer’s affection.

[11] Aziraphale never read this letter.


End file.
